


In Good Time

by Chiisanafukuro (makuro)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuro/pseuds/Chiisanafukuro
Summary: “Hey Keith?”“Hmm?”“Thanks for letting me stay here.”Keith smiled. “Anytime Shiro.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	In Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, Keith and Shiro (mostly Shiro) are dense as rocks! AKA another ‘we’re dating and didn’t know it’ fic. I needed fluff.

The porch stairs groaned a little under his weight as Shiro stepped up them. Fresh paint gleamed in the light of the sunset, and he could see curtains fluttering away from windows as the night breeze settled in around him. The pack on his back felt heavier than a few sets of clothes and toiletries, but he suspected the real weight was in what he was doing. What he was asking here. 

He waited too long to knock, and Keith swept the door open with a small, sad smile. “Hey. Come on, let’s get you settled.”

The Shack, as they had all taken to calling the tiny cabin Keith had lived in after getting kicked out of the Garrison, wasn’t really a shack anymore. Keith had spent the better part of two years in between missions fixing it up. Then, once a Blades base had been established on Earth, he’d made the additions. Despite it being a spacious, well maintained ranch house now, it was still “The Shack”.

It was the place they all would run to when they needed the universe to forget who they were for a while. It was where Keith stayed when he wasn’t being an intergalactic leader. Where Lance came to break down in those first years. Where Pidge and Hunk worked on secret projects they didn’t want any government getting their hands on too soon. 

The Shack is where Lance went first, after he’d dreamed about Blue and Allura. It was where they all ran to after they’d bought her home, to recover and plan their announcement of her return. 

Every private moment between them all happened here, their safe haven, the first place Team Voltron had begun to form. 

Now Shiro was unpacking in one of the guest rooms, having left the condo to his ex-husband. 

“You hungry?” 

Keith was leaned in the doorway, casual in his jeans and loose fitting t-shirt. Shiro squinted at it and wondered if it was one of his old ones, the ones he’d give to Keith when Keith was a cadet and low on, well, any possessions. “Not really,” he said, unable to determine if the shirt had been his, or was just stretched out from wear. 

“I’ve got a pizza place that’ll deliver out here, how about that?” 

Shiro chuckled. “How’d you manage to do that?” 

“Oh you know, saving the universe.” Keith grinned. “And always tipping the driver about fifty-percent. I’ll get a trash can deep dish. You can always heat up slices when you’re hungry later.” 

“Yeah.” He pushed his shirts into a drawer, not really caring about wrinkles. “Hey Keith?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Thanks for letting me stay here.” 

Keith smiled. “Anytime Shiro.” 

* * *

Letting go of a marriage was not like a breakup. It was dismantling something that had been picked together by two people to create a whole new life. For Shiro it was picking apart the guilt he felt, for not putting more into the marriage. He’d taken for granted that it was having someone there, forgetting that he needed to be there for the person in return. Letting people in had never been his strong suit though.

“I never brought him here,” he said through a bite of overloaded pizza, looking up at the stars. Beside him Keith just hummed and kept eating his own slice. “I should have, but I didn’t. I don’t think I wanted him here.” 

He traced the lights in the sky, eyes catching on the places they’d been to in the years since he and Keith first started star gazing together. “Can I go with you, next time?” 

Keith shifted in Shiro’s direction. “With me where?” 

“Wherever.” He reached back and grabbed another slice of pizza. “Admiralship has me on the ground unless ATLAS is needed. I’ve been down here too long.”

“Of course, Shiro.” 

* * *

Iverson didn’t like shifting things without reason, but he always caved to Shiro. Reassigning him to Blades Liaison had meant demoting him back to Captain of the ATLAS—co-captain, really, since Veronica shared the title with him. They did a short press conference on it, Shiro explaining he wanted to continue his dream of exploration, now that the universe had stabilized a bit more. 

That he was doing so with the Blades was kept secret. 

“You ready to test that new arm?” 

Shiro rolled his shoulder, now that he could again, and flexed the Altean-Olkari arm under his new, honorary Blades suit. “Is it bad that I’m hoping I have to?”

Keith snorted, shifting beside him in the aircraft. “Nah, and knowing this crime ring, you’ll have to. Ready to drop!” 

The pilot shouted back. “Drop point in five, Commander! Four, three, two—Go, go, go!” 

Shiro would never get over the thrill of jumping off a precipice with Keith. 

* * *

It just made sense. 

Shiro always went on missions Keith was on too. They had each other’s backs, and worked closely together now, coordinating between Garrison and Coalition and Marmoran work. 

“Okay, but it’s you and Keith. _Living together_ ,” Lance said again. 

Shiro shrugged and kept bouncing the baby on his knee. “What are you getting at, Lance?” 

Lance groaned and practically melted onto the floor in a fit of half muffled cussing. Allura, perched on the other couch, sighed and continued to feed the other twin. “It’s not of our business how you and Keith came to your arrangement, just know that we’re happy to see you two happy, Shiro.” 

“Thank you, Allura.” Shiro said. There was a niggling feeling in his gut, that he knew why Lance was bemoaning both he and Keith on the floor, but he left it there. If he pulled on that string it came with a lot of memories he didn’t know if he was ready for. 

Things were working, and there was no reason to buck that. 

* * *

Relative peace-time did not mean safety during missions. They both saw their fair share of minor, and occasionally major, injuries. They rested, they healed, and they moved on. 

Usually. 

“Keith.” Shiro resisted putting his hands on his hips. “Come on, back to bed.” 

“I’m fine Shiro,” Keith said, unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince as he tried to make himself a bowl of cereal. 

“You’re shoulder is broken, and I don’t give a damn about ‘Galran-healing-rates’ or whatever, you’re not resting enough. Back to bed, _now_.” He took the cereal box from Keith much to easily and steered his friend away from the counter. “Get propped up and I’ll bring you your Reese’s Puffs.” 

“This is stupid,” Keith huffed. “I jump out of moving space ships. Hell you and I were in an explosion a month ago!” 

“Yes, falling off a ladder while painting the house is a mundane way to break your shoulder, now you know what civilian life is like.” 

Despite his protests, Keith went easily, settling back against his pillow stack with a pout. When Shiro came back with a bowl full of sugar bombs and milk on a tray though, his wry smile was back in place. Shiro settled on his other side and turned on the TV, finding an old horror movie to keep Keith’s mind off his shoulder. 

He didn’t notice putting his arm around Keith’s back, or gently rubbing his thumb over Keith’s ribs while Keith nodded off. The sensation of Keith’s purr, something he’d heard only since they started living together, alerted Shiro to where his hand had traveled. 

He stared at it, like the appendage wasn’t attached to his own damn nervous system. 

“Huh.” 

Keith sniffled in his sleep and peeled one bleary eye open. “Hn?” 

“Nothing Keith, go back to sleep.”

* * *

The perfect, beautiful, awe-inspiring spread in front of him was too much to resist. With trembling fingers Shiro reached to touch the perfection in front of him, longing bursting through his veins. But he held back—he didn’t have permission, and just taking would be so, so wrong… 

“Shiro, you can have one of the cookies. I have more than enough.” Hunk set another tray of sugar cookies, frosted marble pink and red, next to the tray Shiro was drooling over. 

“I love you Hunk.” He jammed half a cookie in his mouth and moaned around the flaky-soft texture and sweet buttercream. 

“I know big guy. Why don’t you make up a to-go box for the other guy you love?” Hunk pulled a cake box out from under the counter. “Nice early Valentines gift.”

Shiro slowed his chewing, cookie crumbs still all over his fingers and mouth. “Wha?”

Hunk frowned and started packing the box himself. “You take cookies home with you. For Keith.” He shook the box at Shiro. “Valentines day is coming up.” 

Shiro swallowed his mouthful. “For Keith?” 

Hunk rolled his eyes and kept packing. “Yes Shiro, the man you live with, the one you’re dating, surprise him with cookies.” 

“I’m not dating Keith.”

The packing abruptly halted. “What do you mean you’re not dating Keith?” 

“We’re not dating, Hunk,” Shiro said weakly. “Did—does Keith think we’re dating? Did he say something?” 

“Oh my god.” Hunk closed his eyes and looked to the heavens. “Pidge was right, you’re the stupidest geniuses on the planet.” 

“Hunk, what—” A cookie got shoved in his mouth and Hunk finished packing the box. 

“Go take these to Keith, I can’t look at you right now. _Not dating_ , oh my god.” 

* * *

They ate the cookies, and Shiro made no mention of why Hunk had pressed them on him. When they were done Keith unceremoniously flopped onto his back, head solidly in Shiro’s lap, and fell asleep. 

Shiro kept scrolling the news and carded his hand through Keith’s hair, because that’s what they did on Tuesday nights they were home. 

Dating. What was Hunk thinking.

* * *

So. Maybe there was something to the unsubtle way everyone was implying there was something more between Shiro and Keith. 

Admittedly, their physical closeness wasn’t something a lot of people would call platonic, even if the intent behind it was. And sure, they said ‘I love you’, a lot, but that was just a fact. Keith loved Shiro. Shiro loved Keith. They were best friends. Saying ‘love you’ before parting for the day was natural. 

And so what if Shiro kept having decidedly _not_ platonic dreams about his best friend a handful of nights a week and took care of the aftermath of the dreams biting his pillow so he didn’t accidentally moan Keith’s name into the sheets? It wasn’t like sex dreams and weird masturbation thoughts were uncommon. His brain was just latching onto the person he was closest to at the moment. 

Nothing strange happening at all.

* * *

“Fuck.” 

Shiro watched as Keith and Lance continued to try and outdo each other with squirt guns like it was a duel to the death. Keith tripped over a beach ball and face planted into the sand. Lance crowed and put his foot on Keith’s ass and declared himself the winner, until Keith bucked him and Lance ended up with a mouthful of sand too. 

Next to Shiro, Pidge pushed their glasses up. “You just figured it out, didn’t you.” 

Shiro gulped, unable to take his eyes of the absolutely ridiculous sight before him. “Figured what out?” His voice was only mildly strained. 

Pidge snorted. “You _know_ what. There’s only _one_ reason you’d watched that display of dumbassery and mutter ‘fuck’ like the world just crashed down on you.” 

Keith abandoned the water gun and cackled while he got Lance in a headlock. “ _Fuck_.” 

“There, there Shiro.” Pidge patted his arm. “It’ll be okay. But could you say it out loud? Like, have that little _oh_ moment where you whisper it to yourself all disbelieving?”

Reluctantly, Shiro turned his eyes to Pidge. “What?” 

“Hunk and I have a bet, but like, you gotta actually say it,” Pidge explained. 

“You have a _bet_?” 

“Shiro.” Pidge was exasperated now. “We have a whole spreadsheet of scenarios. I haven’t won a pot in like, two months. Help a friend out.” 

“You’re not a friend.” He got up and decided Allura would be better company than this blatant betrayal. 

“Aw come on Shiro! No don’t tell Allura, then _she_ get the pot for this week!” 

Shiro about faced and zeroed in on the ice cream cart down the beach. Maybe they’d have vodka stashed in the cooler if he was lucky. 

“Shiro!”

* * *

Night in the desert wasn’t totally silent, but it was quiet enough that the soft padding of feet on floorboard was enough to wake Shiro up. Keith was standing in his doorway, hand resting on the frame, eyes wide, and golden. 

“Hey.” Shiro cleared his throat and sat up, pulling his brain out of sleep. “Everything okay?” 

Keith opened his mouth, and the only sound was a shaky gasp of breath. He closed his eyes for a long moment before he tried again, but by then Shiro was awake enough to know. 

He pulled the covers back on the bed and scooted to one side, making room. “Come on,” he whispered.

Keith snuggled right up into Shiro, pushing his face into Shiro’s chest and taking deep gulps of air. There would be no tears, only dry, quiet sobs until Keith’s heartbeat slowed and he fell back asleep. Just like Shiro did, when he was the only crawling into Keith’s bed. 

Outside coyote’s howled in the distance, and Shiro fell back asleep, curled protectively around Keith. 

* * *

Eventually Keith went back to having three guest bedrooms. Shiro’s things fit nicely with Keith’s since they both tended to be on the minimal side. It was easier this way. 

Shiro tried not to think about when it got easy to see his expensive, for when he needed to feel good about himself, lace panties next to Keith’s briefs. 

* * *

Galra weddings were a many event affair that Shiro was not expecting. 

“I’m not doing this,” Keith said. “Being pact-kin was bad enough, I am _not_ going to go through being an actual bridegroom.” 

Krolia sighed, looking wistfuly at Acxa and Veronica in traditional Galran wedding finery. “But you’re look so elegant in the lace, Keith.” 

“No. Terran wedding, blink and you miss it ceremony, and an open bar,” Keith said. His pact-kin robes were tight on his body and he’d itched at the lace accents all day. Shiro grabbed his hand and pulled it away before Keith tore the lace at his wrist. 

“We’ll see,” Krolia said. “What do you think Shiro?”

Distracted by Keith’s hand slapping his, which had turned into play fighting under the table, Shiro said, “I mean I’ve already done it, so short and sweet with a big party sounds good to me.” 

“I can’t believe you two, even the wedding has to be nonchalant.” 

Keith grunted in triumph as he pinned Shiro’s thumb down and grinned up at him. “Gotcha! What were you saying mom?” 

A weary sigh left Krolia. “Nothing, little star.” 

* * *

Shiro stepped out of the master bathroom in a cloud of steam, a long day of wedding celebration washed off. Sleep was calling to him, and a glass of water to hopefully keep away the hangover he was sure to have in the morning. 

On the bed Keith was playing with the bracelet Acxa had given him as pact-kin, it was set with small rubies from Daibazaal that winked violet in the right light. Shiro sat down on the bed and kept toweling his hair. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Keith spun the bracelet on a nimble finger, light from the nightstand bouncing off of it and around the room. “Did you hear what my mom said at the table tonight?” 

Hair mostly dry, Shiro dropped the towel on the floor, and then picked it back up to chuck into the hamper at Keith’s quiet growl. He hated when Shiro left towels on the floor. “At the table?” Shiro asked, thinking back. “Something about a wedding, but I don’t really remember.”

The bracelet stopped and Keith pulled it into his hand like a lifeline. “I… I think she was asking us.” He licked his lips. “About a wedding.”

Shiro frowned. “What about a wedding.” 

“About _our_ wedding, Shiro.” 

“Oh,” Shiro said. 

“Yeah.” 

“ _Oh_.”

“ _Yeah_.” 

There was a spot on the opposite wall where the drywall wasn’t even. It bumped out almost like a little caterpillar under the paint. Shiro consciously kept his eyes on it. “Well, what did we say?”

“What did we— _Shiro_. We’re not even _dating_.”

“Are you sure?” 

Beside him Keith squawked like he was going to choke. “Be serious.” 

“I am being serious.” If he squinted the caterpillar-paint-spot looked like it was moving. “Everyone else thinks we are. We live together, we _sleep_ together, we love each other—”

“Yeah but—”

“Keith.” With concentrated effort, Shiro pushed his fear aside and turned to look at his partner. “I love you. I know you love me too, I know changing that, the big change, is scary as hell, but I think we’ve pushed it off long enough.” He swallowed, eyes searching frightened violet ones. “At least, I think we have.”

“You married someone else,” Keith blurted. He closed his eyes the minute he did, and turned away from Shiro. 

“I know,” Shiro said quietly. 

A strong hand sought his and held tight. “But you came back to me,” Keith whispered. 

“I did.” Shiro shifted, cupping Keith’s jaw with his free hand. “I will always come back to you, if you’ll let me.” 

Keith kissed him, and Shiro was finally home. 


End file.
